


a hero, a liar

by bellawritess



Series: spiderman AU [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: .....i guess, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Artist Ashton Irwin, Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Friendship, HALKGJDKLJ THIS IS THE STUPIDEST SILLIEST THING IVE EVER WRITTEN, M/M, Secret Identity, Spiderman AU, TRIGGER WARNING FOR VERY SILLY FIC, WHAT TAGS DO I EVEN PUT, abuse of the term 'fancy', and that is all, australians living in queens and it's never explained, criminal lack of michael im so sorry michael, i dont know the difference between brits and aussies, it's not crack..............or........maybe it is........, just guys being dudes dudes being guys guys being gay, kind of, kinda., they all talk like brits because, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Ashton’s never met Spiderman. Well, never until right now. Never until Spiderman lands on the pavement in front of Ashton.
Relationships: Calum Hood & Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford & Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: spiderman AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859125
Comments: 31
Kudos: 100





	a hero, a liar

**Author's Note:**

> god i cant even explain this i wrote it from 11pm-4am last night in some kind of fever state i guess it's so silly please try not to examine too closely or you will trip and fall into the plot holes :) you need me anon this one's for you  
> also if anyone can think of a better title toss it my way im. yeah. current title is roughly from heroes by all time low. anyway.

Ashton’s never met Spiderman. Well, never until right now. Never until Spiderman lands on the pavement in front of Ashton. _Skids_ is more like it, actually; he looks like he’s just been thrown.

“Oh, holy shit,” Ashton says, because it’s Spiderman. “Are you okay?”

“Great,” Spiderman says. Ashton’s never heard Spiderman’s voice, but on the whole it’s…younger than he would’ve expected. “You should clear out, though.”

Well, Spiderman would know. Ashton chances a look in the direction from which Spiderman had been tossed and sees a massive shadow thrown up against the brick wall of the building across the street. That’s what Ashton gets, he supposes, for being too caught up in his music. 

“Good luck?” Ashton says, but Spiderman has already moved on, heaving himself to his feet with little more than a miniscule groan and shooting out a web to pull him back across the street.

Ashton hurries back to his apartment, and thinks about Spiderman until he sees on the seven o’clock news that there’d been a fight on 110th. Behind the anchors, photos of the aftermath float up on the screen, but it seems like Spiderman had come out victorious.

Ashton huffs a small sigh of relief and carries on doing his English essay. Spiderman can’t help him analyze _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , he’s pretty sure.

* * *

It’s not that Ashton forgets, necessarily, his exchange with Spiderman. Spiderman’s a public figure, so it would be difficult. It’s more like Ashton’s never really had a particular fascination with Spiderman, apart from that he’s, like, a superhero, which is neat — the point is, it’s not Ashton’s fault that he forgets to tell Calum about it until it comes up naturally in conversation.

It’s after Calum says, “Did you see about that fight near here? With Spiderman?” that Ashton chimes in with, “Oh, yeah, we met.” And then Calum is looking at him with a mixture of outrage and self-righteousness and a little bit of awe.

“You _met?_ What the fuck does that mean?”

“That,” Ashton says unhelpfully. “He landed in front of me. In the middle of his fight, I guess. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“You weren’t really —” Calum breaks off and follows a different avenue instead. “What did he say?”

Ashton shrugs. “He told me to clear out. Right decision, I reckon.”

“I hate you,” Calum says. “Do you not appreciate that you met _actual Spiderman?_ ”

“It’s not that impressive,” Ashton says. “I mean, Spiderman is cool, but so is, I don’t know, Lars Ulrich. If Lars Ulrich landed at my feet, I’d be impressed.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Calum says. “He probably saved your life, you ingrate.”

Well, Ashton hadn’t really thought about it like that, but Calum makes a pretty decent point. “True,” he says. “If I see him again, I’ll thank him.” It’s an easy promise to make, since Ashton is relatively confident he won’t be seeing Spiderman again. Not close enough to thank, anyway.

* * *

When Ashton does run into Spiderman again — and there doesn’t appear to be any threat to their well-beings present at the moment — all he can think is, “I’m supposed to thank you.”

“What?” Spiderman says, looking over at him. He’s just got done helping an old lady cross a street. Ashton genuinely can’t think of anything more stereotypically _friendly neighborhood Spiderman_ -ish of him, but he guesses the image has to come from somewhere. Anyway, Ashton figures Spiderman has better, more important places to be, but Calum would kill Ashton if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

“For telling me to leave,” Ashton explains. Spiderman wears a mask, so reading his face for social cues is pretty difficult, but by the silence, Ashton’s not sure Spiderman really knows what he’s talking about. “I was on 110th three days ago. I asked if you were okay?”

“Oh!” The eyes of Spiderman’s mask widen somewhat — Ashton is surprised at the way it telegraphs surprise. “No problem, mate, just doing my job.”

Ashton chuckles. Spiderman talks like he’s Ashton’s age. “Well, thanks anyway,” he says. “You probably saved my life, so. Anyway, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have more important things to be doing.” Calum will kill him if he doesn’t take a picture, but then, Calum’s threatened to kill him over smaller things.

Spiderman shakes his head. Rueful, if Ashton had to pin an adjective on the motion. “Not really,” he says. “Well, yes really. But — it’s a long story. Don’t worry about it. Hey, I didn’t get your name?”

“Ashton,” Ashton says. “I didn’t get yours, either.”

“Um — well —” Spiderman seems baffled and a little shameful for a couple seconds, until Ashton snorts a laugh. “Oh. You’re joking. Okay. Okay. Cool. I love jokes.”

This just makes Ashton laugh harder. “I bet.”

“Stop laughing at me!” Spiderman insists. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Ashton says, still laughing. 

“I’m going to go make myself useful somewhere I’m not being mocked,” Spiderman says, pointedly. “ _Not_ nice to meet you, Ashton.”

“I know you’re lying!” Ashton crows as Spiderman takes off into the air, only tossing out a web once he’s eight feet up and flipping Ashton off with his free hand as he swings away. Ashton laughs himself home.

* * *

Calum is deeply incensed.

“I’m getting a new best friend,” he declares. “Turn your fucking card in, Irwin.”

“Sounds like you want _Spiderman_ as your new best friend,” Ashton says. “In which case I can’t compete anyway. He’s got superpowers.”

Calum kicks at his ankle and takes his lunch tray over to their usual table. Ashton trails behind. “I hate you. I’m going to make Michael my best friend.”

“Your _lab_ partner?” Ashton says incredulously. “I thought you said he was weird.”

“He’s a good weird,” Calum says, a touch defensive. A touch _too_ defensive, but Ashton lets him have it. “And I bet if he met Spiderman he’d take a _fucking photo!_ ”

“He’s not a museum attraction!” Ashton argues. “He’s a real person, you know. He could be any student at this school. Maybe _you’re_ Spiderman, and you’re just trying to throw me off the scent.”

“Be realistic,” Calum says. “Does my voice sound like his at all?”

Ashton thinks about it and shakes his head. “He does sound kind of young, though,” he says thoughtfully. 

“Maybe he’s a dropout.”

“Maybe it’s Michael your lab partner.”

“That’d be hot,” Calum muses, munching on a fry. Ashton almost chokes. “What? Video game enthusiast by day, Spiderman by night? That’s cool.”

“So now he’s a video game enthusiast,” Ashton says. “Are you actually best friends with Michael now?”

“No!” Calum says. “We’re lab partners, of course we got to talking.”

Ashton _mmhms_ and keeps eating his lunch. Calum starts up on a tirade about why he and Michael definitely _aren’t_ best friends or even really friends at all while Ashton surveys the caf. He can pick the subject of their conversation (or Calum’s monologue, anyway) out in the crowd easily; he’s the only one at their school with hair dyed like that, all swirled up with blue and purple and black. Michael sits mostly by himself, too, but across from him, facing Ashton, there’s a bloke Ashton can’t help staring at. He’s not sure how he’s never seen this kid before, except that every teacher Ashton’s ever had has called him a daydreamer, so caught up with his head in the clouds that he misses what’s just in front of him, all the time.

At any rate, the boy is pretty. From a distance, Ashton can’t make out specifics, but he can see even from here that there’s something classically attractive about Michael’s friend; dirty blonde hair in a halfhearted quiff, a black lip ring at the corner of his mouth, and, Ashton notices as the light from the window shifts into the kid’s face, brilliant blue eyes. 

“Earth to Ash?” Calum’s saying. Ashton refocuses.

“You were saying how Michael’s not your boyfriend?”

“You’re my least favorite person ever,” Calum grumbles. Ashton reaches over to steal a fry even though he’s got plenty of his own, and Calum lets him, which means Calum’s not actually mad. Like Calum would ever be properly mad at him. Yeah, right.

* * *

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Ashton jokes, as he rounds a corner and Spiderman tucks and rolls to avoid crashing into him. 

When Spiderman finally gets to his feet and dusts himself off, he says, “Maybe you should spend less time outside.”

“Did you do something to your voice?” Ashton frowns. There’s a warbling, buzzing sound accompanying Spiderman’s speech, something that hadn’t been present the last two times they spoke.

Spiderman touches his throat absently. “Oh. No. I mean, it’s just a voice modulator.”

“Ah.” Ashton grins. “Can’t have anyone finding out your secret identity, I guess?”

“Nope.” Spiderman sighs. He seems to do a scan of Ashton, then, because next thing he says is, “Nice shirt.”

Instinctively, Ashton glances down at his shirt. “Oh, thanks,” he says. It’s a shirt from last year’s Pride — the gay flag is emblazoned across the chest. It’s very in-your-face, but Ashton likes that about it. “Don’t look gay, so I’ve gotta let people know somehow.”

Spiderman hums. When he speaks, his voice sounds smiley. “That’s really cool of you,” he says. “I’m — I should — yeah.” 

“Yeah,” Ashton says slowly, smiling but confused.

“Never mind,” Spiderman says. “I should probably go. Not that it’s not an absolute pleasure,” he hastily adds.

“No, it’s fine, I know when I’m not needed,” Ashton teases. “I’ve got plans anyway.” He pauses. “Is this the third time we’ve met? I think my mate’s gonna kill me soon unless I take a picture.”

“Sure, no problem,” Spiderman says, and for the first time since they struck up conversation he sounds at ease. It occurs to Ashton that chatting with random strangers he meets in the street probably isn’t usual Spiderman protocol. Ashton’s heard that Spiderman is polite, but from what he’s gleaned, he’s also not very socially apt. Taking pictures is probably the easy part.

“You can flip him off,” Ashton adds, pulling out his phone. “He’ll love that.”

“Really?” Spiderman asks dubiously.

“Well, no, but I will,” Ashton says. He flashes a bright smile. “So do it anyway?”

“If you insist,” Spiderman says, sighing theatrically. As Ashton goes to take the picture, Spiderman flips his middle finger up. Ashton cackles as he closes his phone.

“Calum’ll love that,” he says, mostly to himself. Then to Spiderman: “You were saying you should go?”

“I should,” Spiderman agrees. “It’s been fun. ‘Til next time, Ashton.”

“I’m sure there’ll be one,” Ashton says, and then Spiderman’s up and away, and Ashton dismisses the fleeting thought that Spiderman is stalking him. There are far more interesting people to stalk.

* * *

Calum sends Ashton back the middle finger emoji fifty times in response to the photo. Then he sends a heart. Ashton laughs to himself.

* * *

Somewhere in the midst of Ashton’s bizarre, dreamworld of a life, he realizes he’s befriended Spiderman. This realization only really hits him in the face when Spiderman says, “Can I ask you a question that’s going to sound like a come-on but actually totally isn’t?”

Actually, the realization is more along the lines of, _it’s 9 o’clock at night, and I was just drawing on the roof, and Spiderman saw me from a few rooftops over and came to say hi, to me, specifically, and now we’re chatting like friends_. It’s weird, but not bad. This, Ashton muses, is probably how Calum felt about Michael.

(Ashton’s relatively confident that Calum and Michael have progressed past this stage and are now secretly banging, but if Calum wants to lie to him, that’s his prerogative.)

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because why not. “Stop moving, though.” What? He’d been sketching, Spiderman had shown up; in the natural progression of things, Ashton had begun drawing Spiderman. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

And, well, okay. Ashton could have hazarded a guess at what Spiderman was intending to ask, but it would never have landed on that.

“No,” Ashton says, squinting suspiciously. He lays down his pencil for a moment. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” Spiderman says, which sounds like the opposite of nothing. He fidgets for another minute.

“Spidey, stop moving,” Ashton says. “And tell me your real name, while you’re at it. Calling you Spidey is really strange.”

“Nope,” Spiderman says. “I was just —”

“Stop moving.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He stops, and Ashton takes up his pencil again, scratching out the bare outline of Spiderman’s mask, cast in shadows but still clear in the not-quite-night sky. “Well, I’ve been thinking about the example I set for people. I want people to look up to me, right? As someone who’s proud to represent Queens, and New York City, and stuff.”

Ashton hums. He doesn’t say, _you’re clearly Aussie_. There are a disproportionate amount of Aussie folks in Queens anyway, for some reason Ashton doesn’t care to understand, so in fairness, being Aussie still pretty well represents Queens.

“And, like, I see a lot of these straight white guys talking about how Spiderman is, like,” Spiderman shrugs. “Some pinnacle of Americanism?” He laughs. “I don’t think any of them have heard me speak.”

“Your accent’s a dead giveaway,” Ashton agrees. “If you move one more time I will push you off the roof.”

“I’ll just come back up,” Spiderman says. Ashton hates him, kind of.

“Fuck you,” he says, grinning. “Are you going to get to the point?”

“Okay, well, the point is, I feel like it would be a good message to send if Spiderman were, um, gay, and had a boyfriend, for example.”

Ashton tilts his head; his hand stalls again over his drawing. “ _If_ Spiderman were gay?”

“He is,” Spiderman clarifies. “I mean, I am. I just. Like.”

Ashton doesn’t want to fill in the blanks without Spiderman clearing up what he’s asking, because if he’s asking what Ashton _thinks_ he is…

“Basically I’m just wondering if you would be open to being my boyfriend?” Spiderman says. And then quickly: “Fake boyfriend, I mean. Just to show the world that it’s okay to be gay. And that there are gay superheroes. Not that I’m — I don’t have, like, an ego.”

“You want me to be your fake boyfriend,” Ashton echoes. “Even though I don’t know your real name.”

Spiderman nods.

“Why can’t you just — I don’t know, come out? Or wear a pride flag or something?”

“They won’t believe me,” Spiderman says. He sounds frustrated. “It’s like even if I come right out and say I’m gay, there will be people saying it was a publicity stunt.”

“Well, if you have a fake boyfriend, that’s a publicity stunt,” Ashton finds it necessary to point out.

“Yeah, but it’s different. They can’t say I’m lying if there’s another whole person involved.”

“You want me to lie?” Ashton says, just for confirmation. It’s weird that he doesn’t hate the idea, but he doesn’t.

“Well, you don’t — you can lie by omission, if you want,” Spiderman says diplomatically. “Look, I just — I don’t want to endanger any of my real friends from, like, where I really live and go to school, or my family, but you don’t know anything about me. And — I don’t really know anyone else.”

It’s funny, Ashton thinks. Whoever Spiderman is in real life, he probably has loads of friends — but Spiderman himself must be lonely sometimes.

“Does anyone know your real identity?” he asks, tangentially.

“Yeah,” Spiderman says. “My best friend. But I’d never — I can’t ask him to do that. He’s not out yet, anyway.”

“Okay,” Ashton says.

“Okay…what?”

“Okay, I’ll be your fake boyfriend,” Ashton clarifies. “It can’t hurt.” Well, it could hurt Ashton’s chances of getting a _real_ boyfriend, but it’s not like Ashton’s been on the hunt lately anyway. The blue-eyed boy from the caf the other day — Michael’s friend, or whoever — flashes to the forefront of his mind, strangely. Ashton blinks him away.

“Seriously?” Spiderman whistles, lowly. “I didn’t think you were going to say yes.”

“Well, I’m not really sure what it entails, but I don’t see why not,” Ashton says. “Should I tell my family? Should I tell my best mate? The truth? The lie? What’s the plan of action?”

“We can just be, like, seen together,” Spiderman says. “We spend a lot of time together anyway. Like, for me being…me.”

“If you want, we could spend time together without the supersuit,” Ashton says, only belatedly realizing how filthy that sounds. “Oh, god. That wasn’t a line. I was trying to say like, as _friends._ I want to know who you are. Fucking hell.”

Spiderman laughs, shoulders shaking, so Ashton really does push him off the roof. When he resurfaces a moment later, he’s still laughing.

* * *

Ashton switches into a higher level maths class, which is a very bold move halfway through first semester, but everyone’s agreed he’s far too advanced for the on-level class, so he makes the change. He’s a fast learner, they all say. It’ll be fine. Ashton has had no say in the matter.

The only seat available when he steps into the class is in the back, next to — Ashton does a double-take — Michael’s friend, with the bright blue eyes.

Ashton slides into the free seat and smiles at him. The kid looks shocked to his core at Ashton’s presence. Ashton tries not to take offense. He doesn’t mean to encroach on the space, but it’s not like he can very well sit somewhere else.

Ashton looks back at his own desk, trying not to be hyper-aware of the stiff figure of Michael’s blue-eyed friend to his left. He chances a look at one of the kid’s worksheets, and sees the name _Luke Hemmings_ scrawled across the top. Luke. Nice name, Ashton decides.

Then he looks at his own worksheet and desperately realizes there’s no way he’s going to be able to just ease into this. What he’d hoped would be a smooth dive is clearly more of a belly-flop. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says to Luke, while they’re all doing independent work. “Uh, sorry for taking up your space here. I’m Ashton.”

Luke stares at him like he’s an alien, and then slowly and _very_ quietly says, “Luke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ashtons says, with a bright smile. Calum’s told him in varying tones that his smile is disarming; it doesn’t seem to work on Luke. If anything, Luke looks more tense now, like there’s a gun against his head. “Uh, well, anyway. I just wondered if you could walk me through how to do this? I just switched in.”

Luke blinks at him about five hundred thousand times. Then, wordlessly, he pulls Ashton’s paper towards him and solves the first problem, smoothly and without pausing. The way he does maths reminds Ashton of drawing; unthinking, more like something is pulling his hand around than that he’s really controlling it on his own. When it’s finished, Luke pushes the paper back.

“Oh,” Ashton says. “Um. Thanks?”

Luke nods and returns to his own worksheet. Ashton gets the feeling that Luke is either very shy or very unfriendly.

* * *

“Spiderman asked me to be his boyfriend,” Ashton says casually at lunch, just to see Calum’s reaction. Calum doesn’t disappoint; his eyes grow wider than anything Ashton’s ever seen, and his hand encircles Ashton’s wrist as he’s bringing his fork to his mouth.

“ _What_?” Calum demands loudly. 

“Jesus, be louder, would you?” Ashton says, eyes darting side to side. Aside from a few stares that quickly disappear, nobody seems to care about Calum’s outburst.

“Explain,” Calum says flatly. “And then you can eat.”

“Can I put my fucking fork down, at least?” Ashton says tersely. Calum releases Ashton’s arm, and Ashton sets down his fork. “Spiderman asked me to be his” — he lowers his voice to a whisper and leans across the table — “ _pretend_ boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. But that’s a secret, so don’t tell.”

“That’s even fucking weirder,” Calum stage-whispers back. “What the fuck? Why?”

Ashton shrugs. Unthinkingly, he looks past Calum’s shoulder to where he knows Michael and Luke sit, and his eyes land on Luke, who’s not looking at him. Luke seems to be laughing at something Michael has said, though, unapologetically. In the next moment, Michael reaches across to swat at Luke, and Luke says something Ashton’s too far away to hear, but that looks like _oi, fuck off_. 

It’s funny, but it twists Ashton’s gut. Luke had been so reserved in maths. Is he just rude, then? Rude to people who aren’t his friends? Or maybe he really is just shy. After all, Ashton had kind of imposed. It wouldn’t be the first time Ashton’s forwardness has put someone off. He knows he’s very forthright, friendly to a fault, but it’s better than being impolite. 

“Ashton.” Calum snaps in front of his face. “Fuck, can you stay on Earth for five seconds? Why the fuck does Spiderman want you to be his boyfriend?”

“Maybe I’m fucking charming, ever think of that?” Ashton says. Calum punches his shoulder. “Okay, okay. He said he wants to set a good example and send a good message that it’s okay to be gay.”

“And he couldn’t fucking wear a pride flag or something _normal?_ ” Calum says.

“He said people wouldn’t believe it. Look, I’m not going to pretend to understand superhero politics,” Ashton says. “I said I’d fake date him. So what? It’s not like I’m real-dating anyone.” His eyes drift back to Luke, but this time Luke is looking straight at him, pale and rigid, and Ashton snaps his eyes away as quickly as possible. 

“Are you guys gonna kiss?” Calum presses. “If you do, you’re legally obliged to tell me how it is. So I can put it on my Spidey-watch blog.”

“We're not gonna kiss, and you don’t have a Spidey-watch blog,” Ashton says. “Plus it’s not like you’re looking to snog Spiderman.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How’s Michael?”

“He’s fine,” Calum says, confused. “Our project is coming along nicely.” Ashton waits. “Oh, you mean — it’s not fucking like that!”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Ashton says, sure that it is. He focuses on Calum’s face, trying not to glance back at Luke again, and manages it for the rest of lunch. By the time he breaks and checks, Luke (and Michael) have already disappeared.

* * *

Actually, fake-dating Spiderman is pretty easy.

Calum’s been spending almost all his time outside of school with Michael lately. Ashton has yet to be formally introduced; Calum is keeping them apart under the guise that “we need to finish the project, and you guys are insufferable enough as it is, I can’t be having you meeting and plotting against me.” Ashton is pretty sure Calum just wants to keep Michael all to himself, but it’s not like it matters. Anyway, it leaves Ashton plenty of time to cook up a fake-dating plan with Spiderman.

They’re to spend time together in public, let people take pictures, do a little talking to reporters, and Spiderman even offers to take Ashton for a swinging tour of the city. “Maybe,” Ashton says, thinking about how fucking terrifying that’ll be, but Spiderman is as friendly as his epithet promises, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Spiderman also says that if Ashton is okay with it, he’ll announce to the reporters that they’re together. 

“It’s not going to be insane,” Spiderman says reassuringly. “At most, you’ll have a handful of paps for a few days, but trust me, they don’t care about what I’m up to. Only ever seem to catch the times I do something wrong, anyway.” He says it bitterly, and Ashton feels secondhand disappointment in the paparazzi. 

“Gay superhero might come off as ‘wrong,’” he points out, aiming for light-hearted. Spiderman sighs. Through the voice modulator, the sound comes out all warbled and funny.

“Yeah, well. Hopefully not.” Spiderman shifts to sit cross-legged. The plan is all for tomorrow, anyway. Tonight, there’s a police scanner in Spiderman’s right hand, but he’s sitting inward with his legs over the ledge, brushing the rooftop. Until there’s a cry for help, it seems, Spidey’s not going anywhere. Ashton’s fine with that. He actually really likes Spiderman’s company. A byproduct of becoming friends, he supposes.

“So, uh,” Spiderman says awkwardly, like he wants to ask a personal question but doesn’t know how. Ashton keeps drawing — he’s just drawing someone’s eyes, this time, which means Spiderman has free range of motion — and lets Spidey collect his thoughts. “You, hmm, what school do you go to?”

“Midtown Tech,” Ashton says. “What about you?”

“Good try,” Spiderman says, but there’s an edge to his voice. “Midtown Tech, that’s close by. I know that one.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says, and then laughs to himself. “I probably shouldn’t be there.”

“What? Why not?”

Ashton motions to his sketchpad as if to say _see where my talents lie?_ “I’m an artist, not a scientist,” he says. “Obviously.”

“Then what are you doing there?”

“My parents,” Ashton sighs. “They wanted the opportunity for me. I’m trying, but…maths, science, it’s always been hard for me. I just got put in a higher level maths class, which sucks.”

Spiderman makes a vaguely strangled noise. “Oh yeah? Why does it suck?”

“Did you not hear me just say I’m awful at maths?” Ashton says dryly. 

“Okay — fine. But don’t you have friends, or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, my best mate Calum. But he’s going to be, like, some bigshot scientist or something.” Ashton shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not trying to be self-deprecating, just realistic. I really don’t belong at Midtown Tech.”

Spiderman hums. “Well, I think every opportunity is what you make of it,” he says. “I mean, when I became Spiderman I didn’t think — and — well — here I am.”

“Here you are,” Ashton deadpans. “You just said absolutely nothing.”

“Hey, I’m a superhero, not a public speaker.”

“Well, you better work on your public speaking skills before tomorrow,” Ashton says. Tomorrow is when The Plan rolls into motion. Spidey’s going to tell every reporter he sees that he has a boyfriend now, and if any of them question it, Ashton will make himself known. Spiderman says not to plan to show up until the day after tomorrow, to give news outlets time to let it sink in. _They’ll do a lot of speculating_ , he says. _It’s like their favorite thing to do._

Ashton doesn’t know when he became a prop for a publicity stunt for a good cause — if that’s even what this is — but it’s better than trying to do his maths homework. All he has to go off is the one problem Luke had done for him today, and the one he’d absolutely mangled in his attempt to copy Luke’s handiwork on the next problem. Calum’s not a maths guy, much more scientifically inclined, and Ashton’s mom is useless with anything vaguely academic, so Ashton only has Google to help him. And Google gives so many conflicting answers that Ashton prefers to just forget it. He’s starting to regret switching into the higher level class.

The police scanner crackles to life with a warning of an armed robbery going on somewhere Ashton doesn’t have time to hear before Spiderman is leaping to his feet.

“Be safe!” Ashton calls after him as he jumps off the roof. Spiderman doesn’t answer. Ashton sighs and looks back at his sketchpad. Without meaning to, he thinks he’s drawn Luke’s eyes.

* * *

“I’m confused,” Ashton complains to Calum.

“So the usual, then,” Calum says. Ashton cuffs his shoulder. “Hey!”

“Be a good friend and listen to me,” he says. “I keep trying to be nice to Luke, and he won’t say anything to me. It’s not even that he’s rude, he just — he won’t talk.”

Ashton’s not lying; he’s given it the old college try, made his strongest attempt at being friendly to Luke. And Luke doesn’t outright ignore him or anything; sometimes he looks like he _wants_ to speak, but other than a few words muttered here and there, the guy just won’t talk to him. Ashton’s given up trying not to take it personally. It obviously _is_ personal; Michael and Luke sit in Ashton’s line of sight, and Luke’s never like this with Michael.

“Maybe because he hates you,” Calum says.

“Yeah, but then wouldn’t he just ignore me?”

“You’re pretty persistent when you want something,” Calum informs him. “Like, to a fault. It’s annoying.”

“I’m not trying to be annoying.” Is he being annoying to Luke? Yeah, maybe a bit. “Maybe I should stop trying to talk to him.”

He tries not to land his gaze on Luke, but he can’t help his eyes flitting over their table, and he sees Luke’s face, pained and frozen like he’s listening to something he doesn’t want to hear. Luke isn’t looking at Ashton, but he doesn’t seem to be looking at Michael either. He’s weird, Ashton thinks; good weird. Well, good for Michael, that is. Not so much for Ashton.

“I was joking," Calum says. "You're only annoying until people realize that you're the literal personification of the sun. But if Luke wants to be your friend, he’ll let you know. And hey, don’t worry so much. You’re already cuffed with _fucking Spiderman_ , so.”

“I’m not trying to cuff Luke,” Ashton says, startled. “I just want to be his friend.” He points an accusing finger. “You’re not one to talk, Mr. We’re-Just-Lab-Partners.”

Calum buries his face in his hands, which is a reaction Ashton hadn’t expected. “God, Michael’s driving me crazy,” he says. Which, what? Last Ashton had heard, they’d been getting on swimmingly.  
“What’s he doing?”

“It’s not — it’s what he’s _not_ doing,” Calum grumbles. “Which is admitting that he likes me. I know he does, okay, I can just tell.”

“Aha! Not just lab partners anymore, are you?”

“Oh, move on, Ash, we’ve already determined I want to fuck Michael,” Calum says. A jerky motion catches Ashton’s eye; he glances past Calum to see Luke leaning over the table, coughing up what must have been his drink, and muttering something to Michael. 

“Well, maybe you should tell him,” Ashton suggests, pulling his eyes back to Calum’s forlorn face.

“Mate, it’s worse than that. He’s not even, like, _out._ Officially, or anything. And he won’t admit to me that he likes me, or even that he likes _guys_ , even though, come on, I’m not a fucking moron. Like, I can tell. And I obviously like him — I feel like I’ve telegraphed that pretty fucking well — so I don’t know why he won’t just _say_ something.” Calum slumps forward into his arms. Ashton reaches over and pats him on the back, then scratches a hand through his hair.

“Give him time,” he says. “Michael will realize how dead sexy you are in due time. Just keep being your usual bastard self and he’ll be proposing marriage before you know it.”

Calum laughs into the table. “Right.”

* * *

Ashton holds Spiderman’s hand, which he finds oddly comforting. He lets people take pictures of them out and about. He lets Spiderman take him on a swinging tour of Queens. It’s fascinating to see it from this angle, even though Ashton spends most of it just clinging for dear life to Spiderman. And when the paps do show up, Ashton smoothly lies, “Yes, I’m Spiderman’s boyfriend, and that’s all I have to say about it.” Calum suggests Ashton take up acting. Ashton’s not sure he _is_ acting.

It’s not that he wants to be Spiderman’s boyfriend, exactly. That would be weird, since he doesn’t know Spiderman’s real name, or even real _age_ (although Spiderman has assured him it’s an appropriate age for Ashton to be dating), or what he looks like, or anything. But he does know the somewhat more profound stuff, like what drives Spiderman to do what he does (his parents had been killed, leaving him to be raised by only his brothers) and the way he seems to care so relentlessly for other people that every once in awhile Ashton will have to remind him that he’s a person, too, even if he’s superpowered, and he needs sleep and food and other basic necessities like anyone else. 

It’s nice to care for someone in a way that isn’t just best-friendship. Calum doesn’t need looking after it; Ashton loves him for that. He loves that he and Calum can exist parallel to each other, like two trains running alongside each other on different tracks. They’re fundamentally different, and they don’t stay friends because they need each other so much as because they just genuinely like each other. It’s really nice, having a friend who sticks around because he likes you. But being Spiderman’s fake-boyfriend has made Ashton start acting a little bit like a real boyfriend in some ways. Reminding Spiderman to take a breather is one way. Also, Ashton finds himself drawing Spiderman a lot, recently. Like a _lot._ Like his art teacher has politely recommended that he draw something else, for variety.

When he tries to draw something else, though, he invariably just draws Luke’s blue blue blue eyes and the way they stare at him so desperately sometimes in maths class, when Luke thinks Ashton’s not looking. And Ashton feels, ironically, caught in a web, but he’s not sure what the web is or how to get out.

* * *

At first, Ashton thinks he’s imagined it. Then he hears, again, “Um, Ashton?” and that’s definitely his name, coming from his left.

Carefully, Ashton pauses his music and glances over to Luke. “Yeah?”

“Do you want help?” Luke speaks so cautiously that Ashton feels like _he_ should be whispering, lest something break from their volume, which is stupid given the racket of the rest of the class.

“Um,” Ashton says, dumbfounded. “Uh, if you don’t mind.”

That’s a very mild way of saying that Ashton’s been staring at one problem for about ten minutes now, to no avail.

It’s been about three days since Ashton decided to stop trying to befriend Luke. Maybe it had just taken him too long to pick up on the cue, but he thought for sure Luke had been trying to get Ashton to leave him alone. Now, though, it seems like that’s not the case.

Luke pulls Ashton’s worksheet towards him again, reminiscent of the first time, but this time as he works out the problem he talks his way through it. His voice is soft and uncertain the whole time, but at least he’s _talking_ , talking _to Ashton,_ and Ashton can’t help but fall for the lilt of his speaking voice. It’s infuriating, that despite their (lack of) rapport since Ashton switched into the class, everything Ashton learns about Luke makes him that much more interested. He wants to hear what Luke sounds like when he laughs uproariously at Michael. He wants to make Luke laugh like that. 

“And then you get _x,_ ” Luke finishes, and Ashton blinks and realizes he’s gotten lost in a daydream again. 

“Uh,” he says, when Luke looks expectantly at him. “Sorry. I, uh. I may have zoned out a little?” Ashton blushes. Luke blushes too, a bit. It looks nice on him.

“That’s okay,” Luke says, and smiles tentatively. “Here, we can do the next one together.”

They do. Ashton hears something heart-achingly familiar in Luke’s voice, and that’s probably the cheesiest thought he’s had about anyone in a long time. He keeps it to himself.

* * *

“You’re being weird,” Calum announces as he sets his tray down.

“You’re late to lunch,” Ashton fires back. “How could you possibly know I’m being weird if you just got here?”

“You’re sitting weird.” Ashton is _not._ He doesn’t think. Is he? Is that even possible? Ashton hadn’t even realized he’d had a way of sitting that could seem weird by alteration.

“I’m not being weird,” Ashton says. 

“There’s no use trying to argue, I already figured out that you are,” Calum says. “Just tell me why.”

Unfortunately, that’s a pretty good argument.

“It’s a weird predicament,” Ashton warns him.

“Being friends with you basically guarantees that,” Calum says. He gestures, like, _go on._

“Well, you know how I’m _dating_ Spiderman.” He exaggerates the word _dating_ , as if Calum might have forgotten the circumstances under which he’s ‘dating’ Spiderman. “And, like, it’s not — I know it’s not real, but Spiderman is a real person, right? And I feel like — we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well.”

“And you fancy Spiderman,” Calum finishes.

“No!” Ashton blushes to the tips of his ears, which doesn’t help his case. “Well. Look, everyone fancies Spiderman, okay? I’m not special.”

“Except you’re his _boyfriend_ ,” Calum says meaningfully. Ashton catches a glimpse of Luke at the table across the caf; he’s sitting at attention, and though his gaze seems elsewhere he looks like he’s listening intently to something. Michael waves his hands in front of Luke’s face, and Luke swats them down. 

Ashton ignores them and says to Calum, “Yeah, his _fake_ boyfriend. I’m just the person who’s supposed to prove to the world that Spiderman’s gay, good for him. We’re supposed to break up soon anyway, because Spiderman says he doesn’t want anyone thinking I’m important enough to him to use as bait, or something.”

“God, your life,” Calum mutters. “Like, do you hear yourself?”

“Can you focus, please?” That’s rich coming from Ashton, whose head has been in the clouds so often lately that he doesn’t hear his own name being called, but Calum doesn’t call him out on it.

“Okay, so you fancy Spiderman and you don’t want to break up,” Calum summarizes.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that,” Ashton admits. He rubs his hands over his face, feeling silly and stupid and childish. “This is so stupid. Forget it.”

“Too late, I’m already invested,” Calum says. “Spill.”

Ashton sighs heavily. “Luke spoke to me today.”

Calum raises an eyebrow. “Really? Without prompting?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Ashton says. “And like, he helped me with my worksheet. And his _eyes,_ Cal.”

“Oh, Christ,” Calum says. “You fancy Spiderman _and_ Luke.”

“It’s so useless,” Ashton moans against his palms, face hidden. “Spiderman is fucking _Spiderman,_ and Luke obviously doesn’t like me like that, or possibly at all — he’s only _just_ started talking to me. I don’t even really know him. It’s stupid.”

“Well, for starters, you can’t like both of them,” Calum says. “I mean, you can, but I don’t think it’ll get you very far.”

“I fucking know that.” As usual, Calum’s entirely unhelpful. And also as usual, the sheer nature of Calum’s unhelpfulness helps ground Ashton.

It’s just boys. He just fancies a boy. Well, he fancies two boys, and one is his fake-boyfriend who’s also a superhero, and one doesn’t even really like him. But that’s fine. That’s life. In the grand scheme of things, nobody cares who Ashton does or doesn’t like. And if Calum can make a joke of it, that means it’s going to be fine. 

“I think you should carry on as you have been with Luke,” Calum says. “If he spoke to you once, odds are he’ll do it again. And hell, maybe he does like you, and he’s just really weird about showing it.”

“Like Michael?” Ashton teases.

Calum sighs. “Maybe you’ll be lucky and Luke will already be out of the closet.”

“I’m sorry, Cal,” Ashton says, because he really is. The are-we-aren’t-we dance is exhausting enough as it is, without adding a sexuality crisis into the mix.

Calum waves him off. He plucks a fry off Ashton’s tray. “He’ll come around. I’m too damn charming to resist for that long.”

“It’s true,” Ashton deadpans. “I’m resisting the urge to throw myself at your feet.”

“Fuck off.”

Ashton grins.

* * *

“You’re being weird,” Ashton decides, when Spiderman swings over to his roof but doesn’t immediately burst into chatter.

“I’m not being weird,” Spiderman says defensively. “I only just got here.”

“Yeah, and you haven’t said anything,” Ashton says. “Weird. What’s up? Come on, you can tell your fake boyfriend anything.” His heart pangs, gently.

“Nothing’s up,” Spiderman says. “I’m just — thinking a lot.”

“Well, don’t strain yourself.” Spiderman flips him off and settles himself onto his usual spot on the ledge. Ashton makes a snap decision and hops up next to him, sketchpad in his lap. They’re side-by-side, facing the roof, so Ashton’s back is to the ground below, and one harsh wind would knock him down the side of the building, but Spiderman is right here. Ashton has immense trust in Spiderman.

“You shouldn’t sit on the ledge,” Spiderman says, as if reading his thoughts. 

“You’d catch me if I fell,” Ashton says easily.

Spiderman makes a soft noise. “Yeah,” he says. 

Ashton kicks his heels against the inside of the ledge. There’s a strange lack of warmth emanating from Spiderman; the suit must keep all his body heat inside. It must get sweaty in there, Ashton thinks. He takes the pencil out of the spirals of the notebook and starts absentmindedly sketching. It’s going to be Luke’s eyes — he knows before he even starts, because it’s always Luke’s eyes, and anyway every time Ashton draws them he’s getting better, which means he can kid himself that it’s just a drawing exercise — but he doesn’t really care. If Spiderman asks whose eyes they are, Ashton can always lie.

“We should break up,” Spiderman says abruptly.

Ashton almost drops his pencil, but he keeps it firmly in his grasp. “Yeah?” Hopefully his voice sounds as breezy as he’s trying to make it. “Okay. When?”

“Soon,” Spiderman says. “Tomorrow or something like that.”

“How? Just go up to reporters, tell them we’ve had a falling out?”

Spiderman shrugs; the material of his suit rubs against Ashton’s shoulder. “Basically.”

Ashton manages not to show his disappointment. He doesn’t want to break up with Spiderman. He likes holding hands in public, and the swinging tours (even when they’re terrifying), and he likes that Spiderman seems proud to be with him. Ashton’s read some really brilliant articles lately about the whole ordeal. He hasn’t spoken to anyone in the press about it at all, but Spiderman, apparently, has, and Spiderman has said some nice things. _“He’s always there for me.” “He makes me laugh.” “He treats me like a human being.”_ It’s all true, Ashton supposes, and Spiderman has done a good job framing their friendship as a relationship. But he’d known from the start that this was fated to end, so he shouldn’t be this upset.

And yet.

“We’ll still be friends, though,” Ashton says, with a confidence he doesn’t feel. He outlines Luke’s eyes on the page and starts on the pupils. “Right?”

“Obviously,” Spiderman says. Ashton finds it difficult to read Spiderman’s tone sometimes, with the voice modulator mangling his every sound, but Spiderman sounds uncertain.

“We will,” Ashton reaffirms. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, Spidey.” 

“I wouldn’t,” Spiderman says quickly. “You’re — well, apart from Mi— from, uh. My best friend in school, you’re my best friend.”

“Same,” Ashton says, thinking _maybe you’re on a completely different level. You and Calum aren’t competing for the same spot. I don’t want to kiss Calum, for starters._

Spiderman’s weight shifts a bit, and he leans a little bit into Ashton. Ashton’s confused only for a second before he hears Spiderman say, breathlessly, “What are you drawing?”

Fuck. Lying feels so wrong. “Uh,” Ashton says. “My friends’ eyes.”

“That’s your friend?” Spiderman asks.

Ashton makes an aborted motion that might be a shrug, or something. The night has descended rapidly around them; only the moonlight remains to illuminate the drawing on Ashton’s sketchbook, and whatever light bounces back up to them from the streetlamps. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I don’t know if we’re friends,” Ashton says, feeling for some reason that this is a point that needs clarifying. “But he’s got really nice eyes, so.”

“You fancy him?” Spiderman asks. It’s probably the most blunt Spiderman has ever been with him since asking him if he has a boyfriend, lo those many weeks ago.

Still, Ashton’s caught heavily off-guard by the question. Does he fancy Luke? _Can_ he? And can he even admit that to Spiderman, whom he also fancies, for far better reasons? He doesn’t even know Luke, much as he wants to change that. And Luke doesn’t even really like him, but telling Spiderman he fancies Luke will probably discourage Spiderman from thinking Ashton could like _him_ — it’s all far too confusing. Ashton takes too long to answer, because Spiderman’s talking again.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Spiderman says quickly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, I just — uh. I think. Well. I know that person.”

Ashton whips his head up. “You know him? How?”

“We’ve crossed paths,” Spiderman says. “A couple times. Mutual friends. But, uh, I heard through the grapevine that he fancies you. So just in case you _do_ like him, you should say so.”

 _But I like_ you, Ashton thinks desperately, heart thumping wildly in his chest. “Don’t make things up,” he says sharply. 

“I swear I’m not,” Spiderman says. “I’m close to your age, remember? I know some of your classmates. Including that kid.”

“Yeah? Then what’s his name?”

“Luke.”

“Luke what?”

“Hemmings.”

Okay, well. 

“You really know him,” Ashton says, dully.

“Yeah.”

“And he told you he likes me?”

Spiderman nods.

“But doesn’t he think we’re together?” He gestures between the two of them.

“I told him we’re not,” Spiderman says, which should reassure Ashton more than it does. “He knows this is fake, so I told him it’s okay to fancy you.”

Ashton finds that pretty impossible to wrap his head around. “That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Luke wouldn’t even talk to me for weeks in class.”

“He’s shy,” Spiderman says. “But he really wants to get to know you. He thinks you’re really cute. And he loves your smile, and your dimples.”

Ashton blushes deeply. Even though they’re someone else’s compliments, they sound deeply sincere coming from Spiderman. “Well, tell him to stop getting Spiderman to flirt on his behalf and talk to me himself,” he says.

Spiderman is quiet for a long moment. Then he says, “I should probably go.”

Ashton doesn’t want him to go, but he supposes he’s blown any chance he might have had by talking with such obvious longing about Luke. And anyway — he has a chance with Luke. With _Luke,_ of the searingly picturesque blue eyes and ridiculously hot lip ring, and the droopy quiff that Ashton would pay good money to get his hands through.

But.

Spiderman.

“See you,” Ashton says, which is part request, part question, part promise.

“See you,” Spiderman says. Then, “Talk to Luke!”

Ashton chuckles nervously as Spiderman falls backwards off the side of the building. “Be safe,” he says automatically, but when he looks back Spiderman’s gone.

* * *

The following day in maths class, Ashton’s mind is anywhere but maths. He can’t stop looking at Luke out of the corner of his eye, and when independent work starts up he turns bodily towards Luke and says, “Work with me?”

Luke looks over at him and his whole face seems to split into a gleaming grin that has Ashton’s heart running marathons. “Yeah, okay,” he says, sounding more enthusiastic than Ashton’s ever heard him.

“You’ll have to reteach it all to me,” Ashton warns him. “I wasn’t really listening to the lesson.”

Luke’s eyes crinkle in the corners. Ashton thinks it’s one of the nicest things he’s ever seen. “That’s fine,” he says. His voice sounds steady and certain, and Ashton gets that wash of familiarity again, almost like deja vu. God, he’s sentimental. “Here — it’s a factorial.”

Ashton’s got no idea what the fuck _factorial_ means, but he’d believe just about anything coming out of Luke’s mouth right now if it means he gets a free pass to stare at the lip ring. Ashton’s never wanted to taste something more in his entire life.

He thinks about his conversation with Spiderman, which tugs sadly at his gut, but also happily. It’s very confusing, liking two people at once. Ashton wouldn’t recommend it. 

Luke certainly seems more animated. Briefly, Ashton wonders if between last night and this morning, Spiderman somehow passed a memo to Luke to be more vocal about whatever so-called feelings he might have for Ashton. If so, Luke’s doing a good job. He keeps smiling at Ashton even when Ashton hasn’t done anything, and he blushes a lot, and every once in awhile he even asks Ashton about his life. “You’re an artist, right?” he asks at one point. Ashton blinks. “You just — you doodle on the edges of your papers,” Luke explains sheepishly. “It’s very good.”

“Oh,” Ashton says. His heart swells. Luke’s _noticed_ something about him. “Yeah, I am. _Exclusively_ an artist, as you can tell by my lack of mathematics skill.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Luke says. “I’m a shitty artist. We go well together.”

Which is the kind of thing Ashton would say if he fancied someone.

Maybe Spiderman is telling the truth.

* * *

Calum looks unspeakably pleased when Ashton sits down for lunch. Before Ashton can even ask, Calum says giddily, “Michael kissed me.”

“Oh! Holy shit!” Ashton says. “That’s amazing. Fucking finally.” He squints. “Wait, why isn’t he sitting with us? Isn’t it customary to sit with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Calum says. “He just kissed me. I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but it was a real kiss, Ash. Like, proper. The French would be proud.”

“Don’t need to know that,” Ashton says, although he’s grinning like an idiot. “Has he admitted that he likes you?”

Calum bobs his head excitedly. “He was really stupid about it, but whatever, we got past it. After he kissed me, I told him we didn’t have to talk about it as long as he admit that it meant something, so he admitted it did, and then I said he was welcome to kiss me again whenever he wanted, and then he _did_ , and it’s not perfect, but it’s something.”

“It’s something,” Ashton agrees, fiercely. “Fucking well done, Calum. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah.” Calum sighs happily. Then he pokes at Ashton’s bicep. “What about you? And Spidey?”

“We’re breaking up,” Ashton says. “But he said something really weird yesterday. Apparently he knows Luke.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and he told me Luke fancies me.” Ashton purses his lips. Saying it aloud feels so gossipy and childish, like, _Spiderman told me that you have a crush on me!_ “And today in maths Luke was really friendly and like. I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if I should believe Spiderman, but it seems like…well, I don’t know. Maybe Luke just wants to be friends?”

“Get your head out of your ass,” Calum says. “Obviously he fancies you. You’re Ashton fucking Irwin.”

“Fletcher.”

“That joke won’t be funny no matter how many times you tell it.”

Ashton flashes a grin. Then his face falls. “But what about Spiderman?”

“Yeah, what about him? You’re breaking up,” Calum says. “So Luke has no reason not to go after you.”

“No, Luke knows we’re not really dating,” Ashton says. “I’m just — I don’t know. Why did Spiderman want to break up, all of a sudden? I mean. I _know_ it’s a fake breakup. I just.”

“Ash,” Calum says. “You think too much.”

“Just because you don’t possess the ability to think about more than one thing —”

“Fuck off.” In retaliation against Ashton’s verbal attack, Calum reaches for Ashton’s apple. Ashton makes a noise of indignation, because of everything on his lunch tray that had been the most appealing. “Look, Spiderman’s a wild card, but if you can trust him, then Luke genuinely likes you. As well he _should._ So just pursue that avenue, and if that doesn’t work out, too bad. That’s life.”

Ashton smiles gratefully before remembering that Calum’s just committed a crime of theft against his lunch. “Don’t know why I keep you around.”

“For my enlightening relationship advice.” Calum crunches on the apple. Ashton hates him.

He catches Luke across the room, and for the first time, Luke doesn’t look away. He meets Ashton’s eyes, smiles so brightly Ashton can feel it from all the way over here, and gives him a thumbs up. 

Ashton grins broadly and returns the gesture. When Calum inquires after the action, Ashton just hits his arm and says nothing.

* * *

All the important people in Ashton’s life — all four of them — know his relationship with Spiderman had been a lie. And Ashton sort of keeps his head down at school, because it’s bad enough that he feels underqualified; he doesn’t need verbal reminders from the other students. Nonetheless, when word of his and Spiderman’s breakup reaches the press and, by extension, Midtown Tech, everyone is giving Ashton sympathetic looks in the hallway. A few sneer at him. A few snicker. But most just look bummed on his behalf.

Ashton’s art teacher doesn’t give him shit for drawing Spiderman. Apparently, she’s heard the news too, and all she does is tell him that if he needs to go to the counselor, he can. That’s kind of stupid, Ashton thinks, because it’s not like this breakup should hurt any more than a normal breakup; just because it’s publicized doesn’t mean it’s a bigger emotional impact. Plus, the story Spidey is spreading says it was an amicable breakup, mutual for the most part, so if anything, Ashton thinks he ought to be getting less sympathy than he is. 

Ashton doesn’t go to the counselor. He keeps drawing Spiderman, although increasingly he’s been drawing all of Spiderman but the mask, and instead sketching in Luke’s head, blue eyes the only shock of color in an otherwise monochrome drawing. He’s more conflicted than he’s been in awhile.

Overall, the fake breakup with Spiderman doesn’t have a huge effect on his life. The only massive change comes at lunch, when Ashton comes in late after his art teacher asked him to stay after class — _is there anything I can do for you? you can always talk to me. take care of yourself, Ashton. you’re an excellent student._ — and Calum isn’t alone at their table. 

“Hi,” Ashton says self-consciously, sitting down across from Luke. Michael is next to Luke, and his hand is on the table interlaced with Calum’s, who’s now sitting next to Ashton instead of across, like he normally would be.

“Hi,” Luke says, with the crinkly eyes. Ashton tries not to stare.

“Ash, this is Michael,” Calum says. Ashton watches a silent conversation happen between them, and finally Calum says, “He’s my boyfriend, unfortunately.”

“About time, too,” Ashton says. “Nice to finally meet you, Michael.”

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Michael says. “Luke literally never shuts up about you, so.”

“Ow,” Calum says. “Did you just kick me?”

“Sorry,” Luke says, blushing. “It was supposed to be at Michael.”

Ashton beams. “Well, welcome to our lunch table.”

“I wanted to stay at _our_ table,” Michael grouses, “but Calum is one stubborn little bitch.”

“He is,” Ashton agrees. “So how’s your project going?”

“We’re nearly done,” Calum says. “It’s really cool. I think it’ll be a hit.”

“What is it?”

“Not telling,” Calum says. “Sorry. It’s a secret.”

“Do you know?” Ashton asks Luke. “If you do, you’re contractually obliged to tell.”

Luke shakes his head. “Michael won’t say.”

Ashton hums. “You two,” he says, in as suspicious a tone as he can muster. “I don’t trust this.”

“Me neither,” Luke says. “Ash, we should have worked harder to keep them apart.”

Ashton’s stomach flips at the nickname. “Well, who am I to stop the train of love as it barrels into the great unknown?”

“Poetic,” Michael says. “Is that _Hairspray?_ ”

“That’s _You Can’t Stop The Beat,_ dipshit,” Calum says.

“Whatever, same thing.”

“I think the Great Unknown is, like, someone’s famous last words,” Luke puts in.

“A Great Perhaps,” Ashton corrects. “François Rabelais.”

“I thought it was _Great Gatsby,_ ” Calum says.

“No, that’s Great _Gatsby,_ ” Michael says slowly. Calum aims a slap at his shoulder. He and Michael devolve into an argument over something that’s probably Great Gatsby-related, and Ashton smiles at Luke. Luke smiles back.

“Idiots,” he says fondly.

Luke nods and reaches for one of Ashton’s fries. “Yup.”

* * *

Despite the vow that they’d remain friends after pretending to break up, Ashton hasn’t caught wind of Spiderman for a couple of days. He’s just starting to wonder if Spiderman has actually really broken up with him, friendship and all, and is sitting on the roof drawing constellations as he spots them, when Spiderman shows up. It’s like he teleports, but with a little more pomp and circumstance; one minute there’s nothing, and the next the roof trembles with his landing. Ashton stands up on instinct at the noise.

“Oh,” he says. “You’re here.”

“Yeah.” Spiderman brushes off the one knee he’d landed on. “Sorry I’ve been MIA. I’ve, uh, been doing a lot of thinking and stuff. And I — I think I’m going to tell you who I am, but I don’t want you to be mad.”

“Mad?” Ashton blinks, heart racing. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? But if he knows who Spiderman is, then his heart will just be further split between Spiderman and Luke, and Luke deserves better than that. Hell, Spiderman deserves better than that. Ashton’s just an asshole. “I won’t be mad,” he says belatedly. “Why would I be? I’ve been harassing you about knowing your real name since we met, haven’t I?”

“I know, but still,” Spiderman says nervously. “I just — you have to understand, before I tell you. It’s — I have to keep it a secret. For safety reasons. Like, there are people who are out to get me, a lot of the time, and I just — I don’t want to endanger anyone more than I have to. But, um.” He clears his throat. “I like you a lot,” he admits. Ashton’s heart stops, and he thinks, _fuck._ “And I didn’t want to, like, keep pulling you in different directions. It’s not fair. So, like. Yeah.”

“You —” A million questions are swimming around in Ashton’s head, chief among them the disbelieving _you like me? ME?_ “Okay,” he finally says.

Spiderman shifts on his feet in front of Ashton. “Promise not to be mad?” he says again, and Ashton will literally punch him.

“Just tell me,” he says impatiently. He digs his heel into the rough brick flooring of the roof. 

Instead of saying anything, Spiderman stares at him for another moment, then reaches up and tugs off his mask.

Ashton keeps staring.

“No fucking way,” he says.

“I’m really sorry,” says Luke, mask crumpled in his fist. “I — I know I kind of lied to you, a lot. I understand if you’re mad, really.”

Ashton finds himself unable to stop staring. He’s having some kind of cognitive dissonance retcon, where all of the anguish he’s found himself in recently about Spiderman vs. Luke is suddenly resolved, and everything makes sense. He doesn’t like both Spiderman and Luke. He just likes Luke, because Luke _is_ Spiderman.

“I’m not mad,” Ashton croaks. He clears his throat. “You’ve been — this whole time? It was you?” His eyes widen in realization. “When you told me you fancied me — you were setting _yourself_ up?”

Luke’s cheeks are bright pink in the dimness of the evening. “I…I have really good hearing,” he admits. “And I could hear you and Calum talking about me. Sorry — I swear, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, you just kept saying my name.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Ashton says, and then he laughs, because this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him. “You’re really Spiderman.”

Luke laughs nervously. “Yes?”

Another realization strikes. “Oh my God, and you didn’t want to talk to me — did you think I’d recognize your voice?” The familiarity. The deja vu. Ashton is so stupid.

Luke nods, abashed.

“And you really fancy _me_?” Ashton finishes, a little breathless.

“You fancy me, too,” Luke says. “I heard you say it to Calum.”

“You’re such a cheater,” Ashton says. “I had to learn it the hard way.”

“I literally told you I like you!” Luke protests. “I just…did it as Spiderman.”

Ashton feels a smile threaten to crack his face open, so he lets it. “I wouldn’t say I normally kiss on the first date, but technically speaking we were in a two-month relationship,” he says. “So I feel like a kiss is in order.”

Luke looks blushy and timid, but he steps closer, and Ashton, emboldened, closes the gap between them and kisses Luke, finally.

The lip ring under his tongue feels cold and every time he brushes against it, Luke makes a small noise in the back of his throat and curls his fingers tighter around the cotton of Ashton’s t-shirt, so all things considered, Ashton thinks it’s in the top five kisses he’s ever had. Maybe number one. 

He giggles as something occurs to him, enough that Luke pulls back, loosening his grip on Ashton’s shirtfront but not releasing it completely. “Something funny?”

“Oh, well, just,” Ashton waves a hand, then settles it on the back of Luke’s neck. “We pretended to date when we weren’t actually dating, and now we actually will be dating, and we have to pretend like we’re not.”

Luke giggles too. “That is funny.”

“Worth it,” Ashton decides, and hauls Luke back in for another kiss.

 _So_ worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> ...................  
> anyway  
> i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford]() come say hello.....give me prompts if you want so that this doesnt happen again.....lmaooooo okay leave a comment if you liked it that's all! bye


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